My Sinful Longing (Sinful Men Book 3)

by Lauren Blakely

  Looks like Wicked Jack is gonna make a couple of cool Gs on this haul. Burner phones are the shizz, but electronics are the biz. $$$$$$

  “Wicked Jack,” I said out loud. “That’s WJ.”

  Anger rolled through me, and I slammed the door of my car. Who the hell was this guy harassing Elle because of Marcus? What did Marcus have to do with the Royal Sinners? Was it because he was in the Protectors? I couldn’t imagine gang members caring that much about a guardian angels–style group of volunteers, especially teenagers. The Royal Sinners trafficked in guns, drugs, and stolen goods, so why would a group of unarmed vigilantes bother them? And why would they care that Elle was talking to Marcus?

  Outrage filled my chest, but I forced myself to let it go, and set to work.

  The thing about gang guys was they didn’t always realize that some types of technology were highly traceable, like pictures on the internet. They might have mastered the burner phone and made its anonymity their ally. But Instagram? That social media platform was like a dog with a microchip. And street gangs tagged. They left their mark. They bragged.

  In a few minutes, I had a location. As I looked at the picture one more time, something else clicked.

  “Wicked Jack’s” fingernail was black-and-blue.

  It matched the description of Marcus’s convenience store visitor.

  60

  Elle

  As I dressed for Ryan and Sophie’s proposal celebration, slipping into my dress and fastening a necklace, my nerves were frayed and worn thin. I ran a brush through my long hair, tugging, pulling, and yanking. Punishing it as a distraction from my worries and fears. I tossed the hairbrush in a basket on the bathroom counter, left my apartment, and took my son to my mother’s house. “Have fun with Grandma.”

  Alex shrugged. “Okay.”

  There it was again. The dead voice. The empty tone.

  I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a hug. “I love you. We will figure this out. I promise.”

  “Okay.” It was warmer this time, tinged with hope. He managed to quirk his lips up in a small smile, and I held on to that smile. Clutched it close to my heart. Then I followed him to the door, where the person who’d been on my side my whole damn life waited.

  My mom.

  “I need to talk to you alone,” I whispered.

  “Of course, sweetie,” she said, stepping outside on the porch with me and closing the door behind Alex as he went inside. She reached over, tucking a strand of my hair over my ear.

  Being my mom.

  My rock.

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I’m torn. So torn right now, and I don’t know what to do,” I said, my voice wobbling.

  She squeezed my arm. “Okay. Let me help you figure it out.”

  So I told her.

  Laid it all out for the woman who was my mother, my friend, my person.

  But as I shared the story of my worries, my son, and my new love, I realized something entirely new.

  She wasn’t my only person.

  Colin was too now. He’d become that for me.

  And I wasn’t alone, shouldering my family.

  I wasn’t the sole person looking out for my son, protecting him.

  He had so many people.

  But he definitely had three—me, my mom, and now Colin.

  And I didn’t have to carry all this weight myself.

  Maybe I realized it at the same time she did too.

  “I’m happy for you, honey. After everything you went through with Sam, you deserve a real partner, someone to go through all of this with, hand in hand,” she said, then laid out her thoughts for moving forward, sharing her advice.

  I nodded and smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

  She brought me in for a hug. “Now go have fun tonight.” She tipped her forehead to the house. “I’ve got this. I’ve got your back.”

  That felt damn good.

  To have that faith in others.

  61

  Colin

  The second the call came from Marcus, I pounced on it.

  “Talk to me,” I said, then glanced at the time on my wrist. I needed to leave the office now to make it to Ryan and Sophie’s event.

  “I went in early for my shift, and I found the video from last week,” Marcus said. “I just played it on the work computer in the back office and shot a video of it with my cell. You should have it any minute. I emailed it.”

  “Let me see if it’s here.” I switched to my email program on my laptop, clicked on the new message, and hit play. The video was in black and white, and the conversation was barely audible.

  “Do you know who he is? You think this is the guy who’s sending harassing notes to Elle?” Marcus asked.

  “I don’t know for sure,” I said, then zoomed in on the guy’s hands. I grinned. Like I’d won the lottery. Lo and behold, there it was. The bruised fingernail. A chill ran down my spine. “It has to be the same guy. The caption on the Instagram photo, the same stubbed fingernail, plus the location. I just don’t know his name.” I crooked my head against the phone as I grabbed a screenshot and dropped it into a reverse image search. “But I’m going to call the detective after I plug this into a—”

  My heart stopped beating. My blood froze. That last name. It echoed in my nightmares.

  “You still there?” Marcus asked.

  “Yes,” I whispered, my voice a hiss.

  “What is it? Who is it? What did you find out?” He sounded as if he were dangling out of a window, white-knuckling the sill.

  I recognize the emotion because it mirrored mine.

  The photo had taken me to a Facebook page for Jerry Stefano’s teenage son. The photos matched the ones I’d found on Instagram.

  “Lee Stefano. The shooter’s son. And it looks like he’s following in his father’s footsteps. He calls himself Wicked Jack, and he’s in the Royal Sinners.”

  62

  Mindy

  New York–New York. One of my favorite spots in this city I loved.

  I was early to the party, because that was my MO. No need to be late, ever. I never was.

  I reached the bar, scanned behind the counter, then spun around and surveyed the place once more. Some days, I was looking for particular people.

  Most of the time, I just looked for anything that felt off.

  Instinct.

  I’d always had it. It was why I worked in security.

  Tonight I was off though. So I ordered a pink cosmopolitan and took a delicious sip.

  “Since when do you drink girly drinks?”

  I smiled at the sound of Brent’s voice. “Hey, friend,” I said, turning around to give my buddy a hug. “It’s my guilty pleasure. Don’t tell a soul.” I pressed a finger to my lips.

  “I won’t tell anyone either.”

  That voice. Whoa.

  Deep and raspy.

  I turned around to see someone else had joined us.

  Dark-blond hair, piercing blue eyes, square jaw.

  Brent nodded to the man. “John Winston, meet Mindy Gamble.”

  “And clearly you can’t live anyplace but Vegas with that last name,” he said as he extended a hand.

  “Nope. With my last name, I’m not permitted to leave the city limits.”

  He smiled a crooked grin as we shook. “Pleasure to meet you, Mindy Gamble.”

  Briefly, I considered a cheesy line like The pleasure is all mine. But instead, since I knew who he was, I said, “I’ve heard a lot about you. I hope you get those fuckers.”

  He grinned. “That’s the goal. That’s always the goal.”

  “If I can do anything to help, let me know.”

  Brent squeezed my shoulder. “This woman has her ear to the ground. Nothing gets past Mindy.”

  John arched a brow. “Is that so?”

  I shrugged, giving him a playful grin. “I do my best.”

  “Then we should talk.”

  I p
atted the stool next to mine, and he took a seat.

  Brent wiggled his brows and stage-whispered, “And that’s my cue to go.”

  I rolled my eyes at him.

  John Winston might be one of the sexiest men I’d ever seen, but I wasn’t gunning for romance, or even a hot night.

  Nope.

  But I would be happy to talk business, since that’s what I depended on these days.

  Brent took off, and John and I chatted. I told him I had sources on the street, people I’d talked to over the years.

  “Listen,” he said, scratching his jaw. “There are some guys we’re looking for. They’ve been out of town though. If they come back and you hear anything, I’d appreciate a call.”

  “I hope to be giving you one, then.”

  63

  Elle

  Sophie’s hand was adorned with the most gorgeous diamond I had ever seen. Brilliant and vintage cut, it was 100 percent Sophie. I held my friend’s left hand and couldn’t stop oohing and aahing at the beautiful bling. Nor could Shannon.

  We all gathered around the blue plush lounge chairs in one of the bars at New York–New York, having just surprised Sophie with the proposal celebration Ryan had put together for her. I focused on the diamond and on Sophie’s happiness, letting it distract me from the uncertainty plaguing my own life.

  I wanted to soak up the romance. I wanted to savor all my friend’s happiness. Sniff it like a fine perfume I could enjoy and hope to bask in myself.

  “Tell us everything. Did he actually take out the ring at the top of the roller-coaster too?” I asked.

  Sophie shook her head, her pretty platinum-blonde curls bouncing. She looked windswept, and radiant too. Not to mention like a total knockout in her pinup-girl dress with a peach pattern on it. “As soon as we reached the top, that very second when the car just sort of hovers there on the track and you’re about to scream your lungs out, he shouted, ‘Sophie, will you marry me?’”

  Shannon clasped her hand to her mouth, then dropped it just as quickly. “That is so perfect.”

  Mindy grinned broadly. “I love it. That’s fantastic.”

  “And what did you say?” I asked, making a rolling gesture with my hands, eager for Sophie to tell the rest of the tale. A Bruce Springsteen tune played in the background at the bar, where the men toasted to Ryan. Colin, Michael, and Sophie’s brother, John were all there. “Well, obviously you said yes,” I quickly supplied. “But how? Tell us, tell us.”

  “I shouted, ‘Yes!’ It was that simple,” Sophie said, and her joy was infectious. I beamed as I listened. I couldn’t stop smiling.

  Ryan leaned in, draped an arm around Sophie, and raised his finger in the air. “Actually, to be precise, she said, ‘Oh my God, yes, yes, yes!’”

  Sophie swatted him on the elbow. “Ryan Sloan.”

  “Sophie Sloan,” he countered.

  He tugged her in for a kiss, and I clapped loudly and cheered them on.

  Then I felt a soft flutter. Colin brushed his lips over my ear. “You look beautiful tonight,” he whispered. “And I’ll be right back. I need to talk to John. But I have good news.”

  I flashed him a smile. “Can’t wait,” I said, my eyes following him briefly as he walked into the casino with Sophie’s brother. I hoped the good news was that he’d cracked the case and that my stalker would be arrested. Colin had been hard at work on it, but other than check-ins, we hadn’t had much time to really connect this week. And that was something I really needed tonight.

  “Tell us the rest,” I demanded when Sophie and Ryan managed to pry their lips off each other.

  “I need every single detail of how my brother finally got down on one knee,” Shannon added.

  As Sophie laced her fingers together and continued telling the story, my phone started buzzing in my purse. I excused myself and stepped away to answer the call.

  It was Marcus.

  “Elle,” he said, and his tone had shifted. Gone was the nervous young teen; in its place was a young man.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m worried about you. I think I put you in harm’s way. Helping me. I think that’s why you got those messages.”

  “Marcus,” I said softly. I hated that he was taking on this burden.

  “No, it’s my fault, but I want you to know I’m going to do everything I can to help solve the case. And Elle,” he said, a strength in his tone that sounded brand-new. “I think I can.”

  “You can?” I asked tentatively.

  “Yes. I can’t say much more, but there are things I’m putting together, figuring out. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make this right. You made a difference for me. You made a huge difference. You gave me the courage to get to know my family. And there’s something I can do for you, and for my brothers and my sister.”

  “Marcus, what is it?” I asked, worried.

  “It’s good, Elle. I promise.”

  “Are you sure?” I pressed.

  “Remember what you taught me? Rise above.” He took a deep, fueling breath. “I’m going to do it.”

  And I got it. I knew. He was becoming a man. He was stepping into his future.

  “I’m behind you,” I said, voice breaking.

  “Thank you.”

  When the call ended, I leaned against the wall, reflecting back over what he said.

  The steps he was taking.

  The changes he was making.

  I was changing too. A few weeks ago, hell, maybe even a few days ago, I might have shut down. Might have gone into self-protective mode.

  But I could be protective and still live my life.

  I had a plan for my son, a plan for my family, and a plan to spend some time with my man.

  I drew a breath and returned to the party.

  64

  Colin

  As John and I threaded our way through the slot machines, I glanced back at the bar and spotted Elle holding Sophie’s hands and beaming. Man, was there anything better than a proposal to send the woman you were crazy for into romantic overdrive? I couldn’t wait to have a minute alone with her tonight. We hadn’t been together all week, and I wanted to feel her in my arms. To hold her, touch her, taste her. To tell her how I felt, tell her I wasn’t just falling.

  I’d fallen.

  But this had to be done first.

  The problem wasn’t fully solved yet.

  That was where John came in.

  We continued past the Willy Wonka slots, where the chocolatier presided over the Oompa Loompas, and reached a quiet hallway near the restrooms.

  “I’ve got some info for you,” I said, then told him everything about the texts, the convenience store visitor, the Instagram pictures, and the name.

  “Thank you. This is helpful. We’ll take care of it.”

  But I wasn’t done. It was my turn to ask questions. “Is Stefano’s son part of the case? Why would he have something against Marcus and be trying to get to him through Elle?”

  John blew out a long stream of air. “Lee Stefano is one of the reasons there is an investigation. When he started falling into gang activity, we were tipped off about what he was up to, and started looking into the possibility that his father had accomplices in the Sinners. Lee might have a bone to pick with Marcus.”

  “But Lee’s dad is in prison, so what would he have against Marcus or Elle now?”

  “That’s what we’re working on. My belief is that Kenny and TJ Nelson were supposed to look out for Lee Stefano and keep him out of trouble. They did for a while, but then they stopped trying to keep him away from the gang and brought him into it instead. He’s one of them now, and I’m willing to bet that Lee is doing his part to look out for the men he thinks of now as his brothers—Kenny and TJ.”

  I knit my brow. “How is he looking out for them? Especially since they’re on the run.”

  “That’s exactly why Lee’s looking out for them. So we don’t get to them. This is Lee protecting them, and they don’t like that
Marcus is talking to you. I have some leads I’m chasing down, but my gut is telling me that these guys figure the more Marcus talks to your family, the more they’re at risk of being caught.”

  “Do you think Marcus knows something about the case?”

  John paused and clenched his jaw, his eyes hardening. “I have my suspicions.”

  “Jesus Christ,” I muttered in utter frustration. “This is like an onion. Peel off one layer and there’s another one underneath.”

  “Believe you me, I know. But we’re getting closer to the key suspects, and now it looks like Lee Stefano just put a sign on his back that says arrest me for harassing, stalking, and grand larceny. After all, electronics aren’t cheap,” he said with a wry grin. “And on that note, I need to cut out. I’ve got some arrests to make, God willing.”

  I said goodbye to the detective, then returned to the restaurant to find my woman and tell her the good news.

  65

  Michael

  I knocked back a beer at the poker table, settling in for a game as I surveyed the happy couplings of my brothers and sister. The party was winding down, and Ryan came over to sit down next to me for a round of cards.

  “So, you’re up next. And I’m not talking about cards,” Ryan said, gesturing meaningfully back toward the group.

  “What do you mean?” I waved a hand dismissively. “I’m single as the day is long.”

  Ryan laughed. “Yes, except for that little problem of Annalise. We haven’t forgotten about her.”

  That name. That beautiful, tempting, taunting name. The one who’d haunted my dreams. “There’s no problem there,” I said.

  “You’re still hung up on her, aren’t you?”

  I scoffed, dismissing the idea that I was mooning over a girl. “Hung up on her? I don’t think so.”